You asked me to help because I have all the answers. Right?

"We may assume that to help the parties in conflict, we need to have answers. We need to have substantive suggestions for how to resolve their problem. But, in fact, we don't. To help, we just need to be curious, listen carefully, and ask questions that can open up new possibilities" (Ury, 2024, pp. 249-250).

You are asked to mediate a conflict between members of a core organizing group in a social justice organization. You have little experience mediating but you want to help, so you agree. It makes you feel a bit panicked, so you reach out to someone you know who mediates professionally and has for years. You describe the situation and ask for advice. She asks you, in turn, about your history as a mediator. 

"I am the oldest of six kids, so I had to grow up mediating," you tell her. 

"Interesting," she responds. "How did you go about that?"

"I would inquire about the disagreement and come up with a solution," you say.

"Yup," she says, "the Oldest Sibling Syndrome. You grew up feeling a responsibility to arrive at a good solution to resolve conflicts your little sisters and brothers were having. That is not likely to help you in this case."

"Why not," you ask, surprised. 

"You are asked to mediate amongst grown-ass men and women," she tells you, "not credulous little kids who assume you have the answers that will fix their difficulties. Look, if you want, I can co-mediate with you. I've done a few hundred of these and you might pick up something to help you in future conflicts." 

You gratefully accept, you and she co-mediate, you do indeed learn a great deal, and your activist group is stronger, more effective, and back to saving the world, one small victory after another. Nice.

References

Ury, William (2024). Possible: How we survive (and thrive) in an age of conflict. Harper Business.